The acceptance letter from the top Ivy League came through.
Aunt Belinda Fox said she'd booked a hall to celebrate for me.
But on the day of the party, she walked in leading a two-hundred-pound man and introduced him to me.
"Sophie, this is the man I've picked out for you. You should be a little more forward from now on. It's a new era. Don't just sit around waiting for a man to come chasing after you."
I was so angry I went to my parents to take my side.
Their eyes slid away from mine.
"Your aunt means well. She's matching you with the richest family in the county."
My brother chimed in from beside them.
"They've got hundreds of millions. The fact that they'd even look at you is more than you deserve. You really think a fancy degree makes you special? Get that diploma and you'll still just be some drudge in the big city!"
1
I'd always known my sharp-tongued, spiteful aunt would never spend her own money out of kindness to throw me a celebration party.
But I never imagined she'd drag some huge lump of a man to me!
I looked at the wall of flesh standing next to her.
"Auntie, you haven't even started drinking and you're already talking nonsense."
I couldn't be bothered dealing with her and turned to leave, but she gripped me tight.
"Where are you going? Introduce yourself to your fiancé first."
"Sophie, this is a fine husband I hand-picked for you. Other families would have to strike gold in their ancestors' graves to get this lucky, and it still wouldn't compare. If you weren't my niece, do you think a blessing this big would ever land on you?"
The man I put at a good two hundred pounds heard her and lifted his chin slightly to look at me.
I pulled my hand free.
"My marriage isn't yours to decide, Auntie!"
My face had gone cold.
For as long as I could remember,
my aunt had tried again and again to marry me off to one family or another.
Back then my grandmother was still alive.
If my aunt so much as suggested marrying me off to some family, my grandmother would chase her half a mile beating her the whole way.
My aunt cursed me for not knowing what was good for me, and ran me down until I was worth nothing in her mouth.
Furious, I went downstairs to find my parents to take my side.
"Dad, can't you say something to Auntie? Whether I marry or not is none of her business. She never stops fixating on my marriage!"
"When I was sixteen, she wanted to set me up with some family that ran a teahouse!"
"At nineteen, and again last year, she tried to match me with a family that owned a flour shop..."
"Is there something wrong with her?"
I couldn't take it anymore!
When I was even younger, my aunt couldn't come home once without turning it into talk about which family I'd marry into.
My father's eyes shifted away.
"Your aunt does mean well by you."
My mother said,
"This time is different. Your aunt is matching you with the richest man in our county."
I stared at my mother in disbelief.
"So?"
Had they forgotten this was my celebration party today?
I'd scored a 715 on my SATs and won a place at the top Ivy League school!
I pressed on.
"Mom, Dad, did you two know Auntie was going to bring me a match?"
"Oh, what are you getting so worked up about? What's wrong with meeting him? Taking a look at each other won't cost you a piece of your flesh."
If anything, my mother was impatient with me.
She warned me to rein in whatever temper I had, so people wouldn't look at me and say I'd been raised with no manners.
She took my father's arm to go greet the guests, muttering as she went,
"If you hadn't gotten into that Ivy school, would the richest man's son even look at you... hmph, and now you're the one turning your nose up."
"If our firstborn had been your brother, maybe he'd have been the one getting into that Ivy school."
"Ah, if only it were a son who got in... a daughter can be as impressive as you like, she still ends up belonging to someone else's family..."
I clenched my fists and forced back the tears.
I'd always known my mother favored sons over daughters.
I just never thought that even after getting into that Ivy school, I would still be nothing in her eyes.
The day the acceptance letter came, the village leader brought some officials to our door.
I'd become the only student from the county to get into a top Ivy League this year.
Everyone said that raising a daughter like me was something for parents to be proud of.
That night I saw my mother stroking the acceptance letter, crying quietly.
I thought she was proud of me.
